Bite Me, Princess
by Velace
Summary: An angry Regina does unspeakable things to Emma, an AWARE Regina does too.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: **This is full on smut. There's meant to be humour too, but not everyone thinks I'm funny so, you know, whatever you're in for; enjoy.

* * *

"Your incompetence to perform even the simplest of tasks continues to astound me."

With her elbow on the table and chin resting in her hand, Emma's shoulder's jump with silent laughter. Watching Regina tear in to someone that isn't her is… refreshing, and downright hilarious. It's even better when her target happens to be that obsessive toad of a news reporter. This, she thinks, is what happens when you fail the Mayor. She likes it—loves it, even; when Regina's voice gets deep—the little growl that coats her words is positively spine tingling.

Sidney is nodding, his eyes wide with fear, small utterances of "Yes, Madam Mayor" and "I'm sorry, Madam Mayor" falling like a chant from his lips. The best part? It isn't just the three of them, oh no, Sidney is being dressed down in front of everyone who attended the meeting that afternoon. Part of her wishes she had a video camera to record it, to play it back over and over again in the privacy of her apartment where she'd laugh at the absolute terror on the man's face.

Though, truth be told, her eyes spend far more time on the brunette. Regina Mills is heart-wrenchingly beautiful when she's angry, which is why she sometimes goads the woman into arguments the Mayor hadn't seen coming. A little jab there, a subtle comment here and she could have Regina seething within minutes. Sometimes she'd feel bad about it, do something nice to apologise but in general, Regina has usually done something somewhere along the line and its more payback than thrill-seeking.

"Sidney Glass, you are a useless waste of my time," Regina snaps and Emma has to cover her mouth because that silent laughter? Yeah, it's going to escape if this keeps up. "Get out before I fire you."

"Yes, Madam Mayor." Emma snorts because his voice is at least three pitches higher than it should be, and that's when Regina's eyes light on her. She purses her lips and she does this little tilt with her head that Emma finds absolutely adorable but will never, ever admit to thinking because the last thing she needs is to hear _that _getting around town and making its way to the brunette.

Evil Queen or no, Regina is s-c-a-r-y when she needs to be and Emma would much rather be entertained by someone else being reamed into next week.

The meeting ends shortly after and as Emma stands to leave, she's stops, one foot out the door as Regina calls for her. "Sheriff, a moment if you please." So close, she thinks and steps back, closing the door before she turns to face the brunette.

Regina is staring at her and she has this weird, hybrid expression of confusion, annoyance and—hmm… something Emma can't quite put her finger on. It isn't something she's seen before, or maybe it's simply something she's never noticed but whatever it is, it makes her feel as though there should be flames dancing about her body and—oh, okay; add the smirk that just formed on dark lips and yes, she has seen that look before.

She swallows and shoves her hands in her pockets, nervous and impatient. She almost starts bouncing on the balls of her feet, the urge to run a little stronger than she's used to because Regina is taking far too long to explain why she wanted a moment when they both know Emma has a literal mountain of paperwork to get through if she ever wants to be done by—say; her retirement.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself this afternoon, Miss Swan," Regina comments finally and Emma squints, unsure where this conversation is supposed to lead.

Laughing at Sidney's misery is a favourite pastime of hers, Regina simply happens to provide the best entertainment for such a purpose. Since she has no idea what she's meant to say, rather than speak, she shrugs. Regina doesn't seem to care and leans against her desk, folding her arms over her chest as she continues to stare.

Emma bites her lip and those chestnut orbs drop a smidgen, the slightly lower gaze likely not noticeable by your average person. Emma is far from average however, and when it comes to Regina—well, let's just say she notices almost everything the brunette does, whether she wants to or not.

She does, mind you.

"You know, I do have work to do."

Patience really isn't much of a virtue when it comes to her. Now that she's actively thinking about her fidgeting, nervousness doesn't really suit her either and really, how long is Regina going to stare at her before she says something important enough to validate this utter waste of time.

"I did know," Regina admits, and that damnable smirk widens. "Truthfully, I'm surprised you knew considering how long it's taken you to realize there won't be any magical fairies popping into the station to do it for you."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Well this has been fun," she says, turning to the door with the intention of leaving. "We should do this again sometime," she adds and it isn't until she has the door open that Regina speaks again.

"I was merely wondering…" She trails off and Emma can practically _feel _that smug smirk she knows is still there as her head thumps against the door before she throws it closed again. Regina is a colossal pain in the ass.

"What?" she grumbles, irritation seeping into her mood. "What were you wondering, Madam Mayor?"

She hears a rustle and the slow click of heels, and all of a sudden there is this warmth against her back and a puff of heat that washes over her ear and cheek as Regina purrs, "I was _wondering _how wet you get when I'm angry."

Uh oh.

Her mind screams for her to deny it, to yank open the door and run as fast and as far away from that toxic she-devil as she can.

"Very."

Well, she thinks, so much for what the mind wants.

Regina chuckles, the sound low—husky—unimaginably sexy and then there are hands on Emma's hips and a body moulding into her back and—"Oh god." A shiver ripples down her spine as a tongue flicks the lobe of her ear.

"No," she exclaims, turning and placing a hand on Regina's shoulder. "Bad."

Regina pouts and Emma sucks in a breath, having forgotten to pull away from the hands that slip beneath her jacket, leaving a tingling trail of sensation along flesh as Regina caresses her sides. "No," the brunette repeats. "Are you certain? I guarantee you'll enjoy it."

"No," Emma breathes and damn it, that isn't what she meant to say. "I mean yes, I'm certain. No, Regina; we can't." She gasps, body shuddering as nails rake against her hip. "Oh my god, stop."

"Is that a _stop, I don't want this_ or a _stop,_ _I'm only protesting because I think I should_?" As Regina questions it, she moves the hands from hips and runs them across her stomach, the tips of fingers resting just beneath her breasts and Emma wonders if she's actually supposed to have the cognitive function to _think _in order to answer properly.

It becomes apparent within seconds that no, she isn't meant to be thinking at all because when Regina leans in, her voice is a deep, sexy drawl that sends unimaginable heat to attack Emma's sex as she says, "Perhaps it's a _stop, please bend me over the table and fuck me senseless._" And yes, that definitely sounds like something she wants but this is Regina, Mayor Fancypants, other mother of her son.

"Second," she croaks, one word because that's all she can manage in that moment. She's already lost. She knows it, Regina knows it. She might as well be honest about it. Yes, she wants Regina and while that third option is beyond delicious, it definitely wasn't what she was thinking when she said stop.

A dark brow rises and a "Hmm," is all Regina offers before palming Emma's chest and slamming her back into the wall. Emma grunts on impact but decides what little protest she might be able to present is inconsequential, especially when thumbs swipe over her nipples and words escape her in favour of the pathetic whimper that slips free.

The hand she still has on Regina's shoulder drops to her side and her head follows the rest of her body, thumping against the wall as the smirk the brunette wears turns decidedly dirty a second before Emma closes her eyes. Never has someone handling her breasts sent such pleasure running through her but as Regina squeezes, her lips descend on Emma's throat and there isn't a single feeling in the world that can compare to _this_.

Her stomach clenches and her nipples harden, a moan rumbling within her throat as teeth and tongue assault her flesh. One hand disappears from her shirt, followed by a distinct click and her head rolls, eyes opening and falling on the door. "Wouldn't want someone interrupting us, now would we?" Regina reasons, a soft murmur beside her ear and Emma swallows, head shaking a little from side to side.

By this point, the only interruption Emma will accept is that of someone bleeding to death on the other side. Even then, it would have to be their son because _no one_ besides him is worth missing _this, _and the hum of approval against her throat when she grabs Regina by the hips leads her to believe the brunette is more than likely to agree—proving the saying that there is indeed; a first time for everything.

Not one to remain submissive for long, she uses what strength she still possesses to push from the wall, and being the domineering control freak that Regina is, she tries to resist. "What do you think you're doing?" At any other time, Emma imagines the question would have been snappish and threat-worthy but it's obvious what they're doing affects Regina just as it affects her and if _that _isn't a little cause for pride, then—screw it, Emma is proud and who cares that her grin causes Regina to glare at her?

"Participating," she says, ignoring the indignant huff as she releases the brunette and grasps the ends of her shirt, ripping it over her head and throwing it somewhere to the floor.

Chestnut eyes widen briefly, and then narrow, irises darkening as Regina studies her as though she's a piece of meat which, she admits to herself, there are worse feelings in the world than the arousal that springs between her legs at the thought of Regina devouring her.

"Complaints?"

Dark locks shake back and forth, and Emma surges forward to capture soft, plump lips in a savage kiss. The hands are back, this time mapping her flesh as though Regina is committing the feel of her body to memory. Emma knows how she looks naked, and she looks damn good, so she doesn't really blame the Mayor if she's a little preoccupied to adequately respond to the kiss.

Instead, she takes advantage of the distraction and grabs that sinfully perfect backside that she's spent _months _daydreaming over. She isn't sure if she imagines it, or if Regina really _does_ moan into her mouth when she squeezes firm cheeks, but she doesn't really care as the brunette seems to realize she's being kissed in the same moment and sucks her tongue into a hot mouth.

Emma certainly moans then and if she happens to be a little rough when she pushes Regina against the table well—she'll apologise for it later but right now? No. Right now, she's intent on lifting the Mayor onto the table where she hopes to divest her of all her clothes before they have wild, passionate monkey sex with one another.

As luck would have it, the second she breaks the kiss to see about those clothes, her belt buckle is already undone, along with the button of her jeans because Regina's thoughts are a step ahead of her.

Funny, that.

Emma shakes her head and toes off her boots as Regina tosses her belt to the side before she's then yanked forward, their mouths reconnecting as her jeans are shoved down her thighs and there's a hand cupping her sex. She half-hums half-groans, pleased as Regina rubs her folds through her panties but somewhat put out that she'll have to wait to see what she knows has to be a body worthy of a goddess beneath the form-fitting suit.

The tongue currently exploring her mouth makes for a wonderful distraction though, and it isn't long before she forgets what she wants because right here, right now; this seems pretty damn good. Their lips slot together as if they're meant to be forever connected, tongues dancing in tandem, and then there is the hand between her legs…

If only she'd known how attentive and soft Regina was sooner, they could have been doing this from day one.

Regina tires of the kiss before she does, evidently thinking there are far more important things to be doing with her mouth as she gracefully slips from the desk, dropping to her knees and practically ripping Emma's panties off of her. Emma hisses, verbalising her displeasure of the painful sting, only to gasp, and then groan when Regina runs her tongue along the seam of her thighs.

"Baby," Regina murmurs playfully, smirking when she receives a glare for her teasing.

"Don't start with me, woman," Emma responds and her hips jerk as Regina digs her nails into them, an inaudible swear falling from her mouth as Regina's tongue swipes across her folds. "God."

Regina glances up at her, a cheeky grin on her lips and Emma is already halfway through an eye roll when she hears, "Regina will suffice." The egotism comes as no surprise, although in the moment, Emma can't fault her that, not when the brunette forces her legs apart and starts licking her in earnest, tongue gliding through her wetness and causing her to go weak at the knees.

Fingers poke and prod at her entrance, drawing forth a long, guttural moan from somewhere deep in her chest as her hands slam down on the table and Regina sheathes the digits inside of her. There aren't enough words in the English language, or any other language for that matter, to describe the rush of excitement that courses through her and her mind settles on the encouraging chant of, "Don't stop," as the in and out of fingers promise a welcome release, each thrust punctuated by the swirl of a tongue against her clit.

As the chanting tapers off into unmistakably pleasured moans and breathy little sighs, Regina pulls her mouth back and slows her thrusts as she tilts her head to look up at the blonde. She bites her lower lip, gazing up at the serene expression Emma wears with something akin to pride swelling in her chest. She has no idea what came over her when Emma stood to leave, all she knows is that when she caught the woman staring at her from across the table, she almost stumbled at the surge of heat that exploded in her stomach upon the sight of slightly blown pupils.

It hit her, _hard_, that the looks she had always mistaken for unabashed fury were, in fact, ill-disguised lust and the idea that Emma Swan, of all people, _wanted _her—well, her panties were already ruined from what she'd been daydreaming before Sidney and all his bumbling idiocy announced himself to the room.

With a smile, she returns her mouth to the stiff bundle of nerves, taking it between lips and sucking as she releases a hip and slides her free hand down her front. She pops the button of her slacks and slips the hand beneath her panties, moaning as she lightly strokes her clit, and grinning when the vibrations force another swear from the blonde's potty mouth.

Combined with the vivid fantasies she'd been indulging in and Emma in her current state, she's unsurprised by how easily her fingers become slick with arousal and eases them inside her hot, needy cunt, keeping herself nice and primed for when it's her turn and she's riding the face of her irritatingly gorgeous Sheriff.

"Regina," Emma gasps at a particularly hard thrust and Regina grins again, wanting to hear her name said in that exact way for the rest of—well, forever, if possible.

For now, she contents herself with hearing it in the moment and repeatedly coaxes it from the blonde, driving her fingers in and out, delving deeper and harder with every thrust. Emma begins to shudder above her, thighs quivering with the effort to remain upright, and that's when Regina adds teeth, happily nipping soaked, swollen folds before grazing the hard little nub.

"Fuck," Emma groans, rolling hips against her mouth. "Regina I—"

Regina curls her fingers, rubbing the ribbed patch of flesh as she flicks her tongue rapidly over the blonde's clit, and Emma comes with a hoarse cry of her name. She continues to thrust, removing the fingers from inside herself as she focuses on drawing out the blonde's pleasure.

Emma shudders and whimpers with every aftershock, hands flexing as she tries to keep herself from falling to the ground. She's never come so hard in her life and all she can think to do is drop, to wrap herself around the brunette and give in to the sudden exhaustion plaguing her mind, body and soul. Regina's tongue is still doing such wonderful, delicious things to her and Gods if she doesn't stop, she's going to come all over again.

"Regina, I—" she tries to warn, to stop her.

"I know," Regina interrupts, and Emma cries out again as lips attach themselves to her clit and begin to suck.

* * *

Spent, the two of them somehow end up on the floor of the boardroom. Emma has lost count of the orgasms Regina forced her to have and they're simply there, tangled around one another while they wait for some semblance of strength to return to their limbs. "What is this?" she asks after a few minutes have passed, their breathing no longer laboured, hearts sharing a rhythm while pressed so close together.

Regina rises to hands and knees, staring down at her as she appears to consider the question for a moment before replying. "I'm not looking for a relationship, Miss Swan," she says, forcing herself to her feet and extending her hand in an offer of help.

Emma accepts, standing and collecting her clothes that are scattered throughout the room as she responds in kind, "And I'm not looking for a fuck buddy, Mills."

"Fine," Regina growls, annoyed Emma isn't about to let her have her way. "Dinner is at 6," she informs, reasserting her control as she adds, "And bring a toy with you."

Looping her belt through her jeans, Emma smirks at the commanding tone and questions, "Who says I have any?"

"Are you telling me you don't?"

"No," she admits, thoughts wandering to the strap on she keeps in the back of her closet.

Regina glares and buttons her pants as she demands, "Then stop being difficult and get back to work, Sheriff."

Tugging her tank over her head, Emma turns, flicks the lock and yanks the door open as she responds, "Whatever you say, Madam Mayor," stepping through as Regina gasps, and narrowly avoiding the door with a chuckle as it slams shut behind her.

Fishing her phone from her jeans as she departs town hall, she sends the Mayor a text that reads; _so you're fine with sex in public, but draw the line at exhibitionism? You're disappointing your constituents, Your Majesty._ And receives an almost immediate response.

_Bite me, Princess._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note:** This was supposed to be a one!shot, but every so often, I respond favorably to peer pressure ;)

* * *

Hearing the chime of her doorbell, Regina makes her way from the study to the foyer and tugs open the door. She blinks, surprised to see the blonde stood on her stoop. "On time for once, Miss Swan. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were eager for a repeat of this afternoon."

"I'm hungry and you happen to know how to cook," Emma replies, smirking as she moves forward into the house. "I wouldn't read too much into it."

Back turned to the brunette, she doesn't see the return smirk but as she hangs her jacket, she _does _feel the arms snake around her waist. "If that little present in your pants wasn't fake, I bet it would be standing at attention for me," Regina purrs into her ear. "Let's not pretend otherwise, Sheriff."

Emma shivers in her arms and tilts her head to the side, chuckling quietly as lips run along the length of her neck. "Fine, Madam Mayor," she concedes with a smile. "You have an exceptional body that I'm far from done playing with, happy?"

"Ecstatic," Regina confirms, tugging her earlobe with teeth before she steps back. "Come along, dear," she says, beckoning as she brushes passed the blonde and leads her into the dining room. "Sit, dinner will be served in a moment."

Still smiling, Emma does as she's told and takes a seat as the brunette disappears into the kitchen. She wasn't sure what to expect on the way over, but Regina has clearly gone to a lot of trouble. The table is set for two, a number of candles strategically placed and giving the night a slight air of romance, and with no sign of their son, that means Regina must have convinced him to stay elsewhere so the two of them could spend time alone together.

As confident as she was during their little back and forth in the boardroom, she's surprised Regina has taken her comment about not being fuck buddies seriously. Honestly, she would have gladly accepted it—at least for a little while. She might not be looking for that type of relationship, but that doesn't mean she's idiotic enough to turn it down if that was all Regina was willing to offer her.

Looking up as Regina returns, she grins as she realizes the woman has gone to even more trouble than she first thought, and as Regina places the plate of chicken paella in front of her, Emma reaches up and catches her by the wrist.

Brow furrowed, Regina meets her gaze curiously. She gets the hint when Emma tugs downwards, and she bends, humming as the blonde captures her lips in a kiss. "If I didn't know better," Emma teases when they break apart. "I'd say you were looking to get laid, Mills."

"Very astute, Miss Swan," Regina drawls, not missing a beat as she continues. "If my intentions weren't obvious when I asked you to bring the toy between your legs, there's something rather wrong with you." She pauses, smirking as she amends, "Something besides the usual, that is."

"Under normal circumstances, I'd take such a thing to heart and leave," Emma comments as Regina takes her own seat at the table. "Alas, I'm tethered here by the delicious aroma of my favourite meal, so I'll forgive you this time."

Regina chuckles, retrieving the wine she'd left sitting in the ice bucket in the middle of the table. "Lucky me," she murmurs, pouring them each a glass and feeling an unusual warmth in her chest as Emma grins at her.

Throughout dinner they cover a number of topics, ranging from their son to the next board meeting in two weeks time. The comfort that surrounds them surprises them both but neither draw attention to it, instead enjoying it for what it is as their food slowly disappears from their plates.

As she finishes the last of her meal, Emma leans back with a content sigh and pats her stomach. Regina rises, smiling as she dismisses the offer of help and retrieves their plates before returning to the kitchen. Emma watches her go, eyes glued to the backside cased within the tight black dress Regina had worn for her and, as she remembers the toy between her legs, she squirms in her seat.

When Regina returns, she notices Emma looks flushed and raises an eyebrow as she sets dessert on the table. Emerald eyes glance down and her gaze falls to a lap where she sees the nails of one hand digging into a jean-clad thigh, and she chuckles. "You seemed fine through dinner," she intones, wondering what exactly Emma had been thinking in the short time she was gone to put her in such a state.

"I was distracted through dinner," Emma corrects without an ounce of shame, and the tone forces Regina to pause on her way back to her seat. She turns slowly, a smirk on her lips as she catches the blonde ogling her rear.

"Miss Swan," she chides playfully, drawing those eyes back up to her face as she clucks her tongue in mock disproval. "Have you been objectifying me all this time?"

"Not _all _the time," Emma replies with a grin, raising a hand that she motions from side to side. "Maybe ninety, ninety-five percent."

The throaty sound of laughter fills the air and Emma shivers, biting her lip as Regina takes a step forward and bends down until their faces are mere inches apart. "Eat your dessert, Miss Swan."

Emma glances to the plate in front of her, the vanilla ice cream having started to melt on top of what she assumes is apple pie—another favourite of hers. Her mind is bombarded by thoughts of how that ice cream might melt on their tongues while they share a kiss, and the mild tang of blood fills her mouth as her teeth pierce her lip.

Regina reaches for that same lip, fingers grasping her chin as a thumb coaxes it from between teeth. She leans in the rest of the way and kisses Emma, sucking away the blood with a moan before she pulls back and gestures to the plate. "Eat," she orders. "I didn't spend an hour deciding what to make you for nothing."

As she moves to return to her seat, the scrape of a chair can be heard and she gasps as she finds herself bent over the table with Emma pressed firmly against her backside. "You effort is noted and _very _much appreciated, Regina," the blonde purrs, drawing another gasp as she rolls her hips.

"Emma," Regina warns, trying and failing to ignore the sudden heat that gathers in the pit of her stomach at the thought of being dominated like this. She attempts to push the Sheriff back, succeeding only in rubbing against the hardness residing in the blonde's pants, moaning as Emma grabs her by the hips and forces her still.

"If you don't want this, I'll stop," Emma assures, the strain of not having ripped the dress from Regina's body already seeping into her voice. "But if you're worried about the dessert, I'll gladly promise to eat it _after _I've rewarded you for such a thoughtful evening."

Regina whimpers, unable to respond as she imagines all the ways Emma might reward her. Emma takes her silence for consent and glides hands over the taunting curves of her backside, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her dress in search of skin. She chuckles upon finding a lack of barriers, thumbs setting between cheeks as she palms Regina's ass and squeezes gently.

"I never would have pegged you as one to go commando, Your Majesty," she murmurs playfully, taking her hands back and lifting the dress. She moves just enough to take in the sight and her mouth dries as her arousal skyrockets. Regina bent over and naked from the waist down is like every dream come true—no, it's like every birthday wish granted in the history of forever and then multiplied by infinity.

She has no idea how long she stands there, but it's clearly too long as Regina loses her patience and snaps, "Are you going to fuck me, or did you plan to simply stand there and stare at me all night."

Emma smirks as she says, "Rock, meet hard place."

"I'd rather your hard place meet my vagina," Regina mutters with a frustrated huff, realising she wasn't as quiet as she thought when the blonde starts laughing.

"Em—" she tries to growl—to demand what has been promised, but the name breaks apart as a thumb pushes between her folds and she moans, words lost to the feeling of Emma stroking her slit.

She had expected Emma to simply take her but she can't find it in herself to complain as the sensation is enough to send her desire spiraling out of control. Pressing her cheek to the cool surface of the table, she watches her breath as it falls against wood, keenly attuned to every hitch and stuttered gasp that escapes her mouth.

Emma builds her up slowly with careful caresses and murmured words that she can't quite hear but, at the same time, she somehow knows the words _mean _something neither is willing to admit outside of a moment like this. Closing her eyes, she pushes the thought to the back of her mind and focuses on the heat swelling inside of her as Emma rubs her clit.

Feeling herself creeping closer to the edge, she pushes back to encourage Emma into giving her more. Instead, an almost feral sounding growl escapes her when Emma chooses then to stop and she attempts to rise, not knowing whether or not she's about to hit Emma, and missing the sound of a zip lowering in her haste to find out.

A hand between her shoulder blades prevents her from getting more than an inch from the table, however, and she opens her mouth to deliver a few scathing words before she feels the warm, hard length of Emma's fake cock between her legs. Her jaw snaps shut with a click, the sound audible enough that Emma seems to feel the need to chuckle in response.

"This _is_ why I'm here," Emma reminds her, "incase you've forgotten."

Regina moans in answer, unable to do much else as Emma guides the cock into her inch by inch. It's bigger than she thought it would be, and much thicker than she's used to but as Emma's jean-clad thighs meet the back of her own, the stretch and feeling of fullness is nothing less than heaven.

"It's not too much?" Emma questions, unmoving as she waits for a reply.

"No," Regina forces out, swallowing down the unusual desire she has to beg Emma not to make her wait any longer while quietly hoping the blonde hears the plea regardless.

Evidently, she does and as Emma starts to thrust, Regina clutches the edge of the table. The short pause had done nothing to dampen her arousal and she grabs for one of the hands at her hip, guiding it back to her clit before the familiar heat spreads and renders her powerless.

Emma rubs the little nub in quick, tight circles as she leans over and molds herself to the brunettes back. "Regina," she calls softly, stilling her hips until Regina turns her head. She ignores the glare that promises untold pain and claims plump lips, resuming her thrusts as Regina moans into her mouth.

"Harder," Regina murmurs against her lips, pushing a tongue into her mouth as she complies.

Emma increases her pace, driving her hips forward with more force as she sucks on the warm, wet muscle. The feeling she had of something missing vanishes with the taste of Regina in her mouth and she inwardly sighs her contentment, pinching the stiff bundle of nerves between thumb and forefinger as she feels the vibrations of Regina's own pleasure scattered throughout the kiss.

When Regina comes, her body stiffens beneath the blonde and she can almost _hear _her nails as they dig in to wood. She'll be furious in the morning when she remembers, loath to discover the claw marks in her table, but in that moment as Emma breaks away from her mouth and straightens, hands fastening around her hips, all she can focus on is the feeling of euphoria and the way her muscles spasm around the toy buried inside her.

Minutes pass before she comes down from her high and she pushes from the table once Emma pulls out of her, feeling the strength returning to her limbs as turns and glances down at the cock that is now covered in her essence. She bites her lip and drops to her knees, smirking as the motion draws a sharp inhale from the blonde before she wraps her mouth around the shaft.

Emma groans at the sight, wishing, if only for a second, that the toy was real as Regina skilfully plays lips and tongue along its length. She threads her fingers through brunette hair, unable to tear her eyes from the spectacle and knowing she will be unimaginably wet when she removes the toy from around her waist.

No longer able to taste herself, Regina releases the cock with a loud pop and tucks it back inside the blonde's jeans as she stands. Face to face, she grabs Emma by the cheeks and pulls her into a passionate kiss, sharing her taste before she steps back, breathless as she says, "It's time for bed, Miss Swan."

Reaching passed the brunette and dipping into the mess once known as dessert, Emma raises the finger now covered in it and meets Regina's gaze as she sucks the digit into her mouth. "I thought you said I had to eat my dessert," she says, lips quirking at the corners.

"My dear," Regina purrs, arousal returning at the display and simmering in the pit of her stomach. "If you don't get upstairs right this second, the only person you'll be using that on ever again is yourself."

Emma turns, smirking as she saunters over to the stairs. "You honestly think I wouldn't find someone willing to sleep with me?"

Eyebrow cocked, Regina follows and rises to what she perceives to be a challenge and asks, "How many people have you slept with since you came to Storybrooke that aren't me?" Emma pauses, turning back with a thoughtful tilt of her head and Regina stops right in front of her, suddenly unsure of herself as she narrows her eyes.

"Do you include one night stands?"

Jealousy flares somewhere from within the depth of her chest at the question and she stifles a growl, slamming her walls down on _that _particular emotion as she feigns curiosity and questions, "You've had a one night stand?"

"Two of them," Emma replies with a shrug and spins on her heel, climbing the stairs.

Regina trails along behind her, needing more information now that her interest is piqued. She prods, "With who?"

"Jefferson," comes the response. There's a brief hesitation before Emma adds, "and Tink."

The jealousy returns with a vengeance and this time Regina refuses to repress it. She grabs Emma by the shirt and forces her to turn around before she slams the blonde back against the wall. "There are more?"

"Well," Emma drawls, amusement dancing in her eyes and on her lips. "I did have a thing with Ruby for about a month during the curse."

Regina relaxes somewhat but the conversation reminds her of something she's wondered for a while now and she licks her lips, allowing the silence to lengthen before she finally gives in and asks, "Killian?"

Emma wrinkles her nose in thinly veiled disgust at being reminded of the time long ago when she almost fell for Hook's lies. "As persistent as he was," she says, sliding her arms around the brunette's waist, "he never made it passed second base."

"Well I suppose you at least have _some _taste," Regina murmurs, relieved to know that sleaze of a pirate hadn't had the pleasure. Her gaze drops to the knowing grin on pale lips before she adds, "Though Jefferson gives me pause. Why on earth would you sleep with him?"

Emma leans in, pushing from the wall and walking Regina backward in the direction of the master bedroom as she says, "He's hot."

Regina scoffs and shakes her head. "He kidnapped you," she reminds the blonde. "He's also quite clearly insane."

"You tried to put me under a sleeping curse," Emma deadpans. "Also," she teases, nipping a plump lip, "Glass houses, Your Majesty."

"Bite me, Princess," she retorts, throwing her head back with a half-moan, half-chuckle as Emma latches onto her neck and does just that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note:** It was brought to my attention that while I had written more chapters for this story, I failed to update it here and I have no idea why. If you've read the fic on AO3, then you won't find anything different here. If you haven't then... enjoy, and then be mad at me for still not having written the next chapter too :)

* * *

Emma stretches her limbs, enjoying the feel of soft sheets against her skin. She was surprised Regina hadn't kicked her out last night after they were done, though she supposes that might have something to do with the fact Regina had passed out on top of her without consideration for what either of them might have otherwise wanted at the time. She's decided she prefers not to think about that little tid-bit, and instead chooses to focus on the fact Regina is _still _on top of her, drooling if the slight wet patch on her breast is any indication.

Then again, Regina could just be one of those people who sucks things in her sleep—thumbs, the edge of blankets, nipples. She wonders if the fact she's somewhat turned on by the thought makes her a pervert, but it's simply one more thing she pushes to the back of her mind because, hello, Regina is _on top of her, completely naked_.

Her hands begin to roam as her mind settles on the right track, up and down a deliciously smooth back. Regina murmurs something against her breast and Emma smiles, feeling the vibration spread through her body before it settles low in the pit of her stomach. Regina will probably kill her once she regains awareness, so she figures she might as well have some fun before her eminent death and guides her hands down to that perfect ass, palming both cheeks with a sense of possessiveness.

Regina shifts, immediately alerting Emma to the fact she's awake as her legs fall on either side of a thigh and she starts to rock her hips. Emma would never have dared to imagine _the_ Queen would lower herself to _rut _against her like a dog in heat, but as that is exactly what Regina does, she finds she's not at all averse to going along with it and bends her knee.

Slick, wet heat soon coats her thigh and Emma moans, her own arousal sky-rocketing. She wonders how Regina might feel about a good, thorough fucking so early in the morning, and comes to the conclusion she doesn't really care for Regina's feelings on the matter as she flips their positions. Regina gasps, a sound that Emma is partially smug for causing but mostly content to ignore as she settles between the brunette's thighs and gets her first taste of morning pussy.

There is absolutely, without a doubt, come hell or high water; no contest. Whether it's the raspy sound of her name, the hand in her hair, the way Regina writhes beneath her tongue or a combination of all three, Emma isn't sure, but she's damn sure the morning is definitely the best time to have Regina Mills in her mouth.

The silver lining on an already great thing? Morning Regina is completely unfiltered.

Things like, "Fuck yes," and "Oh Emma, lick my cunt," fall from her lips as though they're starring in some seedy, low budget porno flick and Emma loves every second of it.

When she sucks on her clit and adds fingers, thrusting in and out, deeper and harder on every stroke, the words become a chant of, "Fuck me," and little else until Regina comes.

Her name has never sounded so good.

Pulling back, Emma swipes a thumb across her chin and sucks it into her mouth. She couldn't stifle her grin if she tried; freshly fucked, Regina Mills is utter perfection and there is no greater feeling than knowing she was the one who put that look of bliss on her face.

"I should clone you." Chestnut eyes flutter open and Emma frowns at the comment before Regina explains, "I could make a fortune selling you as an alarm clock."

Emma smirks as she slinks her way up Regina's body and settles on top of her. "You won't though," she says, confident she's right if last night was any indication. "As I recall, you're not very big on sharing."

Regina hums, neither confirming nor denying the words as she lifts her head and connects their lips. Emma moans, parting her lips for a demanding tongue as hands slide over her hips. She knew there was something she'd forgotten in her haste to worship this beautiful body.

Kissing Regina does things to her head she thought only multiple shots of tequila could do and she willingly surrenders as the cloud envelops her mind, body pliant beneath attentive, wandering hands. She closes her eyes, sinking deeper as fingers skim the cheeks of her ass and dip between her legs to rub along her slit.

Nipping her lower lip, Regina breaks the kiss and purrs, "Is all this for me?"

"Nope," Emma teases, burying her head in the crook of her neck and sucking lightly at her pulse. "I was hoping to catch your neighbor when I leave here."

Regina tilts her head back as Emma trails kisses over her jaw. "Which one," she counters. "The ninety year old with dementia and the five cats, or the seventy four year old peeping tom?"

Emma chuckles against her throat, kissing her way back to lips and sucking the lower one between teeth. She lightly bites down before releasing, and replies, "I hadn't decided yet. Which do you think?"

Sliding a hand between them, Emma groans as Regina finds her clit and a finger enters her from behind. "Well," Regina drawls. "Mr. Donaldson has a heart problem, so he's likely to have a stroke the moment he sees your breasts." Emma half-laughs, half-moans as her head falls to her collarbone and Regina continues, "Ms. Harris has only had her cats for company for a good thirty years, so she might be desperate enough to sleep with you."

"Oh fuck you," Emma chuckles.

"Oh no, my dear, fuck _you_," she purrs, drawing a deep, guttural sound from the blonde as she presses down on her clit and thrusts into her harder.

Emma bears down on both hands, rubbing herself against the finger as she rocks in time to the thrusts. "I wish I'd known you were this much fun sooner," she breathes, panting and biting her lip as Regina laughs deeply.

"God you're sexy," she moans and arches her back, stomach clenching in preparation. "So close…"

Regina captures her nipple with a hum and sucks the delectable flesh messily; teeth, lips and tongue playing with the little nub as she pinches and rubs her clit between two fingers. Emma parts her lips with a slow, carnal moan, toes curling as she imagines that clever mouth all over and release fires through her every nerve.

Minutes pass with her collapsed on top of Regina before Regina extracts her fingers, arms encircling a waist as she waits for Emma to come down from her high. She cherishes this moment the most, though she'll likely never admit such. Since yesterday afternoon in her office, all she's thought about is how it feels to be weighed down by the Savior. It should be suffocating. It should make her hot and restless, and maybe she should want to push the blonde off, but that isn't the case.

She feels safe. She feels appreciated, wanted—deep down, maybe even a little needed, a little loved. Such feelings should terrify her considering she hadn't wanted this. Before she realized Emma lusted after her, she was adamant that she'd never open herself up again, and yet here she is.

The funny thing is, she isn't certain that this isn't how it was meant to be all along. They argue like an old married couple, always getting in to each other's personal space and somehow always winding up in one another's business, even when neither of them were even trying.

She sighs as Emma stirs and she murmurs, "If I didn't think I was giving you too much credit, I'd accuse you of having planned this."

Emma shifts, somehow finding a position that is even more comforting to Regina with a leg tossed over her thigh and an arm across her stomach. "Planned what?" she questions, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"This," Regina gestures nowhere and everywhere at once, and Emma's chuckle sends a tingle between her legs. "I tell you I'm not interested in a relationship, and suddenly I'm making you dinner and waking up to you in my bed trying to cop a feel."

Emma snorts. "I did a hell of a lot more than try," she replies, propping her head up on an elbow as her hand begins to trace nonsense patterns across an olive-toned stomach. "Is it too much?"

"With the direction my mind is heading in, I'm more inclined to believe that it's not nearly enough," Regina confesses, squeezing her eyes shut. She needs a shower, at least three cups of coffee and maybe another orgasm or two before she even considers having this conversation—most definitely not in that order.

Her eyes snap open when she feels the tip of a finger glide across her lower lip. "What are you—" Emma bows her head, cutting her off with a kiss and Regina sighs against her mouth, a whimper catching in her throat as Emma rests her full weight on top of her once more.

She loses herself to the sensation of soft lips and a curious tongue as she opens her mouth to it, her fingers threading through mussed curls and holding tight as they explore each other's mouths. Emma kisses as if the world is about to end, and Regina can't help but moan in a quiet plea for more as a hand slips between her thighs to cup her sex.

Emma spreads her folds and thrusts into her with three fingers, palm flat against her clit. Regina groans appreciatively into her mouth, needing no time to adjust as she rolls her hips in encouragement. Within seconds they find a rhythm and her release builds swiftly, threatening to come all too soon and put an end to their morning.

Briefly, Regina wonders if there is a single thought in this world or any other that she could despise any more than that one, and dismisses it just as quickly. They didn't have to stop just because she comes. Emma wouldn't—couldn't say no to joining her for a shower, could she?

"Fuck," she growls, regretfully pulling away from Emma's mouth. She needs to know, and she needs to know _now_. "Shower with me."

Emma blinks, eyes glazed as she stares down at her with a look of confusion. "I admit I'll be extremely disappointed if you're not already aware of this, but I'm sort of busy at the moment."

Regina scowls, tightening the fist in her hair and tugging as she grumbles, "I meant after this, you moron."

With a smirk, Emma curls her fingers and Regina's mouth falls open, a resounding moan bubbling up from her chest as her eyes practically roll into the back of her head. "You should be nice to me," Emma murmurs, grinding the palm of her hand against Regina's clit. "You wouldn't want me stopping now, would you?"

"I will kill you."

Emma chuckles. "Don't worry," she says, kissing the underside of her jaw before confessing, "I don't think I could, even if you do deserve it."

Regina swallows the retort on the tip of her tongue and her back arches as Emma flexes the fingers inside of her. Her whole body trembles as her desire returns with a vengeance and she tugs again, this time drawing Emma down into another kiss. No way in hell is she risking her chance at another orgasm for an answer she can torture from the blonde afterwards.

* * *

"You're welcome," Emma sing-songs as Regina feels a semblance of strength return to her body.

"Bite me," she huffs and swings her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe a nap is in order, she thinks, finding that even the simple act of sitting up has sapped what little energy she'd mustered. This simply won't do. How is she meant to function throughout the day, knowing Emma is capable of pleasing her so thoroughly that she doesn't even _want _to get out of bed? Ridiculous.

"I think you forgot something."

Regina turns her head as it dawns on her what Emma means, and grins. "My apologies," she says before correcting her earlier mistake. "Bite me, _Princess_."

Emma wags her eyebrows and rolls from the bed, laughing as she backs toward the bathroom. "Maybe when we're in the shower."

"Maybe?" Regina echoes, her earlier thoughts of a nap gone from her mind as confusion enters her voice and she rises from the bed. "It wasn't a suggestion, Miss Swan. You _will _give me what I want."

Still laughing, Emma salutes as she says, "Ma'am. Yes, Ma'am."

Despite her effort to appear aloof, Regina feels the smile at the corners of her mouth. Emma Swan is an obnoxious, and unfairly adorable, pain in her ass. "Idiot," she retorts.

"Princess," Emma argues with a pout, stumbling and almost tripping over her own feet as she pivots on her heel and disappears into the bathroom, the sound of running water beckoning Regina to follow.

Rolling her eyes, Regina chuckles quietly to herself. "Royal idiot," she mutters beneath her breath and shakes her head, resigned to her apparent lot in life as she enters the bathroom in time to watch Emma step into the shower.


	4. Chapter 4

**Move.**

Regina tries to obey the thought but her feet refuse the command from her brain and remain glued to the floor. Following Emma into the bathroom, she hadn't given a second thought to what she might find upon entering. It is a mistake she is now paying the price for as she runs her tongue across her lips, stare fixed to the gorgeous sight before her.

With her head tilted back and the hot water slowly fogging the glass behind which Emma stands, Regina drinks in the view of all that glistening flesh, mind screaming at her to join Emma as she watches the way pale skin slowly flushes beneath the heat of the shower.

For two days, they have practically lived in a state of undress around one another, but it isn't until now that she realizes that not once has she taken the time to actually see Emma. She has touched her, tasted her—she has even worshiped the soft and sometimes scarred plains of her body, but she hasn't truly taken a moment to simply appreciate and admire her Sheriff in all her glory.

And what glory it is.

Soft breasts tipped by rosy pink nipples and a hard, toned stomach that seems to stretch for miles until stopped by the flare of hips. Strong, muscular thighs she can distinctly remember the feel of closing around her head, muffling the sounds of breathless pleas and wanton moans…

The desire running through her is intense— primal in a way that has thoughts of the two of them rutting around like animals in heat bombarding her, thoughts she feels drawn into as she loses her grip on reality before a moan startles her and lids that slowly slipped closed, snap open. She immediately zeroes in on the hand between Emma's legs and her mouth dries as her breath quickens, chest heaving with unadulterated want.

Her thighs slicken and that is when she finally moves, one thought overwhelming all others as she inches forward. She needs to be closer, to see—to watch as one of her favourite fantasies plays out right before her eyes. As the door to the shower swings open, Emma turns to her with a lazy smile and Regina bites her lip, eyes dropping to take in the view of the fingers sliding in and out as Emma strokes her slit.

The scent of Emma's arousal sends the desire simmering in the pit of her stomach rolling and Regina falls to her knees without thought as she grabs Emma by the hips. She pushes her back, ignoring the grunt of protest when Emma hits the wall as she tears the hand from between thighs and replaces the stroke of long, slim fingers with that of her tongue.

Emma moans and grinds against her face, fisting a hand in her hair. Regina mirrors the sound, a fresh wave of desire crashing through her as Emma's taste coats her tongue. She reaches down with one hand to play with her clit and sucks Emma's into her mouth, each flick and swirl of her tongue matched by her fingers as she works both buds, bringing them both toward the edge of release before she pulls back to speak.

"I want to live inside your cunt," she breathes, losing all semblance of control as she thrusts into herself.

Emma chuckles, tilting her head forward to look down at her. "Crude," she teases, eyes darkening as they fall between thighs and she watches Regina fuck herself.

Regina swallows roughly at the feel of something sliding along her thigh and she glances down, stomach flipping when she realizes it is Emma's foot. Her eyes snap back up and Emma grins. "Move your hand," she husks. Regina hesitates before she adds, "Please."

When she finally does as asked, Emma smiles and Regina shudders at the sudden pressure against her mound. A murmured, "Lean back," has her planting her hands behind her as she lowers herself to the floor of the shower and her breath hitches, hips rising of their own accord as Emma starts to rub her folds with the heel of her foot.

The sensation is new—unusual, but not at all unpleasant and she closes her eyes, tilting her head back. Curious, she spreads her legs and offers up a silent challenge to her Sheriff, enjoying the ministrations combined with the water pelting her stomach but wanting more.

Emma hums as if contemplating it and then chuckles again when Regina gasps, hips bucking hard against the digit that rubs her clit. "I've always wondered how this would feel."

Forcing her eyes open, Regina stares up at her in surprise. "You've never done this before?" She hasn't but by how well her body is responding, she would've thought Emma had.

With a mixed look of arousal and determination, Emma meets her gaze and gives a subtle shake of her head. Regina smiles. "Well it feels wonderful," she drawls, projecting as much of the pleasure she feels into her voice as she leans further back on her elbows.

Emma smirks and a sound sticks in the back of Regina's throat as Emma pushes down on her clit before gliding through her wetness to her entrance. Regina shudders as a digit probes her opening and catches her lip between teeth as Emma presses closer to the wall at her back, sliding her hand back between her legs as she raises the other and adjusts the shower head.

As the first powerful jet of water hits her clit, Regina jerks but her gasp quickly dissolves into a moan as it forces Emma to enter her. Her clit throbs, growing more sensitive by the second and just as she's ready to beg Emma to stop, her mouth falls open as her release suddenly rips through her.

Collapsing on to her back with the strength of her orgasm, Regina stares up at the ceiling, mind blank as her body shudders and twitches in the aftermath.

It takes her a few minutes, but the moment thought returns, she remembers what Emma is doing and tears her eyes from the ceiling.

Emma catches her gaze, grinning, and widens her stance. Regina whimpers at the loss of pressure against her pussy but follows the path of the hand as it falls from the shower head and glides down the length of Emma's body. Fingers tease an already hard nipple and Regina feels her mouth water, picturing her lips wrapped around the stiffness as the hand continues its descent.

A groan falls from her lips as Emma spreads her folds, opening herself up to a hungry gaze. Regina struggles to sit up, wanting to explore the wet, pink flesh with lips and tongue. Emma lifts her leg and Regina growls as the foot that brought her pleasure mere minutes earlier denies her, the pressure now resting between her breasts and preventing her from rising any further.

"Look," Emma murmurs, voice teasing. "Don't touch."

"You were quite happy to receive my touch before."

"That was then," she replies, still grinning. "This is now."

Regina huffs, eyes narrowed in a glare.

Despite her obvious annoyance, Emma ignores her and Regina sighs, seeing no other choice but to concede to her role of voyeur as she follows the leg to the apex of thighs. She sucks in her lower lip, Emma's taste still vivid in her mind, and watches, mesmerized by the finger swirling around the slick bundle of nerves.

Emma's head softly thumps against the wall and as her pleasure builds, the pressure of her foot lessens. Regina clasps her ankle and slowly guides it back between her legs. She runs her fingers along Emma's calf, massaging smooth, wet flesh before hooking a hand behind her knee and using her hold to pull herself up.

Emma emits what Regina assumes is a sound of protest and she smiles, leaning forward and pressing lips to the side of the knee where her thumb remains, stroking as she continues to watch Emma bring herself pleasure.

Up close, her scent is almost overwhelming and Regina's nostrils flare, breathing Emma in as her arousal reignites and her pussy throbs with want. "Emma," she murmurs against flesh, forcing her eyes from the hand and up that mouth-watering body.

"I'm close."

Regina hums. "I know," she purrs, inching closer to her goal as she rises to her knees and rubs her pussy against Emma's shin. "I want you to come in my mouth," she says, dragging her tongue along an inner thigh.

Emma gasps and her eyes flutter open. She glances down with a groan and Regina captures her hand before she can take it away, unwilling to waste the opportunity to have what she wants as she licks between fingers before sucking them into her mouth.

Pulling back with a pop, she smirks at the look of longing Emma gives her. "Delicious," she purrs, less than an inch from her destination.

Emma shudders at the feel of her breath on her pussy. "Regina."

"I think I need to hear that magic word, Sheriff."

"Eat me?" Regina stifles her chuckle and tilts her head thoughtfully. It isn't quite what she had in mind, but it is amusing enough for her to consider it, nonetheless. And then Emma adds, "My Queen."

Regina blinks, all thought leaving her brain entirely at the sound of her title in that tone of voice as wet heat pools between her thighs. It has been a long time since anyone has called her that, and even longer since it was said with such desperation.

"You really were close, weren't you?" Emma bites her lip with a nod and Regina strokes her legs, up and down, relishing the whimper Emma releases when she palms the cheeks of her ass.

Mercifully, she leans in and Emma tangles a hand in her hair with a breathless, "Yes," as Regina parts her folds, finding her clit and welcoming it back into her mouth at the same moment she sheathes two fingers inside of her. She moans, savoring the taste, the scent—the feel of the hard little nub as she rolls her tongue over it, and the tight heat clenching her fingers.

When Emma comes, she gushes and Regina feels a small surge of smug satisfaction in her chest. She consumes every drop, licking and sucking before she curls her fingers to draw Emma's pleasure out, and releases a sound of delight as Emma rewards her with more sweet warmth.

"You really like doing that," Emma says, finding her voice once Regina regretfully pulls away.

"I really do," she admits and accepts the hand Emma holds out for her. "You taste exquisite."

Emma grins, wrapping arms around her waist as Regina stumbles, knees somewhat aching from kneeling too long. "Well, I'm glad you approve," she says and captures her lips.

Regina groans. She considers what harm it would do to indulge a little longer for exactly 15 seconds, and then shakes her head, knowing herself—knowing Emma too well to know that it wouldn't simply be a little longer. She forces herself to break the kiss. "We keep this up and we'll be late for work."

Emma shrugs and says, "Best excuse I've ever had," before attempting to kiss her again.

With a chuckle, Regina tilts her head back and away from temptation as she replies, "Believe me, my dear, I am well aware of what you consider an excuse."

"Hey." Emma feigns offense, mock outrage in her expression before she frowns. "Your dear, huh?"

Regina cocks an eyebrow, confused but not in the least bit surprised by the change of subject; Emma has always baffled her, no more so than when she is subjected to the woman's incessant need to ramble pointlessly.

"I suppose it'll be tough to top my Queen."

Understanding now, Regina rolls her eyes. "I thought you did quite well," she offers, feigning ignorance.

"Wh—oh." Emma shakes her head and deadpans. "Hilarious, your Majesty."

Regina shoves her shoulder lightly. "Get out of my shower," she demands, eyes dancing with mirth.

"I didn't even get to wash," Emma protests, refusing to budge and tightening her hold.

"Who's fault is that?"

"Yours," she answers immediately.

Raising her hand in a familiar gesture, emerald eyes widen and Emma grabs her wrist. "Nope, not doing that," she says and entwines their fingers, coaxing the hand back down.

Regina scoffs, secretly pleased Emma had stopped her. She needs to get ready and so does Emma, but for some reason, she doesn't want them to part just yet. "If you think holding hands can stop me from using magic, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you."

"It stopped you…" Emma squeaks at the sudden heat against her hand. "Temporarily," she quickly adds, pouting. "Let me wash real quick?"

Dismissing the small fireball she'd conjured in her hand, Regina pretends to think about it with a, "Hmm."

Emma squints, searching her face. "Please," she tacks on the addition as though a question more than an actual plea.

"No," Regina replies. If she'd begged, then maybe, but that was just sad. Emma needs to try harder, and Regina has the perfect idea—she did say she gets what she wants, after all. "Convince me."

Brow furrowed, Emma sighs and questions, "How?"

"How else?" Regina leans in, a smirk on her lips as she purrs, "Bite me, Princess."


	5. Chapter 5

Emma jumps, startled, as the door to her office slams against the wall. She looks up and instantly raises an eyebrow. Regina is staring at her as though she's committed some unforgivable sin and, well, it's been a while since she did anything even remotely questionable that might cause that particular look…

"Did you need something," she asks, trying to think of what she may have done in the previous four hours since they last saw each other. She comes up blank, too behind on paperwork to have had the time to irritate anyone to the point they'd complain and set the Mayor on her.

It's happened before.

A few times.

"Yes," Regina answers and then slams the door closed with as much force as she'd opened it. Emma swallows at the look in her eyes.

Regina needs something, alright, and if that look is any indication, Emma has a fair idea of what that something might be. She smirks, relieved and more than willing. "Trouble concentrating, Madam Mayor?"

Chestnut eyes widen minutely in surprise before Regina blankets her features with an air of nonchalance and replies, "Perhaps."

Emma grins outright and rises, rounding her desk to lean against the front of it. "I am humbly at your disposal," she drawls, biting her lip as those same eyes darken with desire.

"Remove your clothes," Regina commands, a seductive purr in her voice. "And then turn around. Hands on the desk."

Emma hesitates, glancing to the window that looks into her office from the main room. She doesn't think she'd mind all that much at being caught, but she still has no idea what this is to Regina and she thinks the older woman might.

"Some time today, Sheriff."

Shaking off the thoughts, Emma straightens and returns her stare. "Privacy?"

Regina waves her hand through the air and Emma feels the fine hairs all over her body stand on end. She hesitates a moment longer before crossing her arms over her stomach and tugging her tank top over her head. There is no way to know what Regina did without asking, but she knows she's done something and if it's enough to assuage the doubts Regina herself might have about them being caught, then that's good enough for Emma.

"Quickly, Miss Swan."

Emma rolls her eyes but does as told, kicking her boots off before popping the button on her jeans and shimmying out of them. Regina advances on her and by the time Emma is stood in only her boy shorts and bra, Regina is close enough to touch. Emma resists, recognizing this for what it is as she turns and faces the desk.

A warm hand caresses her spine and she shivers, tilting her head to the side as a mouth descends on her neck. Regina expertly unsnaps her bra and Emma catches it from falling before she promptly discards it with a hum, tossing it somewhere to the side as that same hand glides over her ribs to her front and palms her breast.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about our shower this morning," Regina murmurs between hot, wet kisses to her shoulder and Emma smiles.

"Me neither," she confesses, reaching behind her with both hands to stroke the hips pressing into her. She's been staring at that same form on her desk for the better part of her morning, and had been on the verge of throwing it out and pretending she lost it.

Regina allows her touch for a few minutes, hands roaming every inch of available flesh before returning to her breasts and pinching her nipples. "I believe I told you to place those on the desk."

Emma grins and squeezes her ass. "You also told me to remove my clothes, which I haven't."

Regina hums, biting her shoulder in reprimand. Her voice is low and full of promise when she eventually responds. "An unfortunate mistake that I intend to correct as soon as possible."

"Now is pretty soon," Emma breathes, unbelievably affected by the silky tone as she feels the moist heat gather between her legs.

Regina chuckles knowingly and removes her hands, grabbing her hips instead. "Only when you've done as you're told, Miss Swan."

Emma heaves an exaggerated sigh before bending forward, solid mahogany cool beneath her palms as she glances over her shoulder. "Better?"

Regina steps back, hungrily devouring the sight as she reaches out and strokes the firm mounds of her ass. She grabs a cheek in each hand, a smirk playing along her lips as she looks up with a squeeze. "Much," she assures and slips her fingers beneath the waistband of Emma's shorts.

The second they flutter down her legs to pool around her ankles, Emma kicks them off and widens her stance. Regina bites her ass and Emma chokes trying to gasp and chuckle at the same time, squirming against the hand that slips between her thighs as Regina runs her tongue over the mark she'd made.

"Warn a girl next time," Emma groans, rubbing against the fingers that caress her folds.

Regina chuckles, drawing another gasp as she pinches her clit. "If I did that, it wouldn't be half as entertaining," she counters, extracting her hand as she stands.

Emma drops her head, a stupid grin on her face. Regina presses against her back and curls into her, sucking on the lobe of her ear and cupping her breasts. Emma moans softly, arching her back and pushing her chest more firmly into the hands as Regina massages them, thumbs swiping across nipples and causing them to stiffen.

With a nibble and flick of the tongue, Regina releases her ear and nudges behind it with her nose. Emma turns her head and Regina kisses her, muffling the sound of another moan as she grinds against her ass and tugs her nipples.

The kiss is heated but playful and when Regina breaks it, she wears a salacious grin. "Where is your nightstick?"

Emma blinks, breathless as she tries to make sense of the words. She licks her lips, thought slowly forming together to provide an answer. "Middle drawer."

Regina grins wider and pecks her lips before pulling away entirely. She saunters around the desk and retrieves the nightstick, holding it up as she tilts her head to the side and inspects it.

"This should do nicely," she drawls and Emma feels the desire pool in her stomach as realization dawns. "Make my day and tell me you've never fucked yourself with this."

Emma swallows thickly and shakes her head. "Never," she croaks and, impossibly, Regina's face brightens.

"Lucky me," she croons, teeth bared wolfishly as she rounds the desk and returns to stand behind Emma. A hand curls around her hip and Emma shudders as Regina rests the baton against her thigh. "Cold?"

"Yes."

Regina chuckles, the sound husky and warm against her neck. "Would you like me to warm it up for you?"

"Please," Emma murmurs, hands clawing at the desk as she tries to ignore the sudden desire she has to throw Regina down on it and spend the rest of her life fucking the woman to oblivion.

Indicating she should turn around with a tug of her hip, Emma does and nibbles her lower lip, eyes darkening as Regina brings the stick to her mouth with a smirk. There is something about those lips wrapping around things that Emma finds unfairly arousing; spoons, her fake cock, and now this. She doesn't think she'll ever look at her baton the same way again.

"God you're hot," she says, reaching for her.

Regina doesn't stop her.

Instead, she pops the nightstick from her mouth and swirls her tongue around the tip. Emma groans and bats it out of the way, leaning in for a kiss that quickly heats up from 1 to 100 as she sets about removing the clothes barring her from feeling all that warm, olive flesh. She reaches the last button on Regina's blouse and feels it slip through the hole before she gasps, suddenly turned on her heel.

"Naughty," Regina scolds playfully, pulling her back against her and wrapping an arm around her waist as she slides the nightstick between her legs.

Emma whimpers. It's still cold, but it's also _wet_ and the thought of it being inside her is far more of a turn on now that she's watched Regina make out with the damn thing.

"Still cold?"

"A little," she admits and rolls her hips.

"Poor baby," Regina teases, the condescending pout of her lips evident in her tone as she slaps the back of a thigh.

Complying with the silent order, Emma raises her leg and plants her foot against the desk. "Go fuck yourself."

The tip slides inside her and she gasps as Regina replies, "But you're so much easier."

"You should definitely go fuck yourself." Regina laughs deeply and twists the stick. Emma groans, bucking and forcing it deeper. "Fuck."

"What a filthy mouth," comes the chiding drawl before she feels the teeth on her neck.

"You love it."

There's an agreeable hum against her neck and Emma reaches up over her shoulder, tangling her fingers within brunette locks and relishing the feel of hot skin and rough lace on her back as she rests her weight against Regina's front.

Regina starts to fuck her slowly, guiding the stick in and out as she nibbles and sucks at flesh, but it isn't long before she picks up the pace and Emma's pleasured moans begin to spill more freely.

The sounds and scent of sex soon fills the office and Regina moves the attention of her mouth to a shoulder. Emma turns her head, burying her nose in the crook of Regina's neck. She closes her eyes to the swarm of butterflies gathering in her stomach, the faint hint of lavender adding to an already overwhelming assault on her senses.

When Regina raises her head and starts to whisper vulgarities in her ear, Emma clutches her hair tighter and reaches down with her other hand, wrapping fingers around the wrist holding her baton. Regina pumps into her harder and Emma groans against her neck as she feels her release growing closer with every thrust.

"Such a greedy little cunt," Regina purrs, dragging nails down her stomach. Emma arches into them, the burning trails left behind only heightening her pleasure.

Her breathing labors and her throat dries, sweat trickling along her brow. Regina nuzzles her throat, kisses sparingly placed but _always_ right where she needs them— against her pulse, beneath her jaw and behind her ear. She has no idea how Regina has learned to read her so quickly, but _Jesus Christ_, she'll never been more grateful than she is in that moment.

Teetering on the edge, she knows something is missing and doesn't know how to articulate exactly _what_ before the hand resting on her mound subtly shifts. A finger presses down on her clit and her mouth falls open, back snapping taut as Regina flicks her wrist on the next thrust and twists the stick inside of her.

The release is long, and powerful, wracking her body with shudders as it courses through her and Regina's kisses become more plentiful. She murmurs things against her skin, peppering the kisses between every word. Emma almost wants to laugh at how cliche the things she says are; _that__'s it, Emma / you like that, don't you? / come for me / give it all to me_— but, there is something in her tone that has warmth settling in Emma's chest.

Closing her eyes, she ignores the urge and relishes that feeling, mind pleasantly buzzing.

Her body twitches violently when Regina slides the nightstick from inside of her and she's about to protest, despising that emptiness more than anything, before Regina steps back and places a hand between her shoulder blades.

"I do hope you're not tired," she purrs and Emma shakes her head, almost _giddy_ as she surrenders to the faint pressure on her spine and places her hands back on the desk, bending slightly. "Good."

Regina swats her inner thighs with the nightstick and, spreading her legs, Emma groans as it slides back into her. "How do you feel about anal," Regina asks casually only seconds later.

Stunned by the unexpected question, Emma struggles to come up with the right words. "Uh…"

Regina chuckles. "Is that an _I am 100 percent in favour of it _grunt, or shall I pull out and brace myself for an adorable yet no less horrified look that, were I anyone else, might make me feel shame for my obvious depravity?"

Emma grins so widely her cheeks ache and she laughs softly. It is definitely the first but— "I'm tempted to say the second just to see what you'd do."

"In that case," Regina replies, gripping her ass with one hand and spreading her cheeks as she slides her thumb between them. Emma moans, pushing back against the digit. "I would likely have taken off my clothes and switched places with you, so that you might reconsider your stance once you've seen just how much I enjoy it."

"Oh fuck."

Torn between that option no longer being available to her, and wanting so badly for Regina to keep going, Emma lies flat against the desk with an anguished groan, ass in the air while Regina laughs at her reaction.

"Worry not, my dear, you'll have your chance."

Emma pouts, cursing herself in her head even as she asks, "When?"

"Maybe tomorrow." Regina rubs her puckered hole and then adds, "Maybe for Christmas— oh, perhaps a present for your 35th birthday; that's a milestone one, right?"

It also happens to be three years away.

"I hate you," Emma growls, closing her eyes as she turns her head and rests her cheek against the desk.

"I imagine you'll forgive me for doubting your sincerity," Regina drawls, her amusement clear.

Emma huffs, smiling. "Bite me, Your Majesty."

Regina gasps, mock outraged. "How dare you," she says as she bends, teeth clamping down on a shoulder and doing exactly that.


End file.
